Purity
by dru.solis
Summary: One-shot story: The creation of the first Zerglings. Originally to be the beginning of a story from a Zerg POV, but seemed to stand enough on its own. I wanted to write a full novella for Starcraft but ran out of time. This was probably written in 2004.


The Zz'gashi dune runner snorted, stirring twin plumes of desert sand. It craned its thick neck to the side and made eye contact with the other two members of its pack. They were impatient, stretching their jaws wide as though yawning. It had been nearly two weeks since their last meal, and they were growing weary of unfruitful hunts. They were in luck though; just over the dune was a sick Bovian bull. After twenty miles of trailing the herd, the bull had finally fallen too far behind to be protected.

Using head bobs, the pack coordinated an attack pattern and split up to execute the formation. Dense muscles shifted beneath leathery golden brown scales; the dune runners kept their bodies close to the sand. Their bodies, the size of a panther but the shape of lizards, were built for short distance speed dashes. The dune runner moved on all four to keep low and stealthy. It eyed the Bovian bull from behind.

The bull staggered, its massive feet sliding awkwardly in the loose sand. It let out a mournful bellow from the hollow bone crest at the top of its head and collapsed to its front knees. The head bounced at the end of its meter long neck as it fell to the ground. The bull's chest barely rose, and its breath came in rasps. It seemed to be completely unaware of its surroundings, only that the sun was pressing down upon it heavily.

Something was very wrong. The dune runner could smell it. There was something foreign about this bull, a musky smell that seemed to blanket the dying animal. If it could, the dune runner would have targeted another creature despite the easy kill, but the pang of hunger overrode caution. The other two dune runners revealed themselves to the bull, approaching from either side. They stood on their hind legs, so they could take feign swipes with their front claws at the sickened prey.

At the sight of the predators, the bull struggled to its feet, bellowing. It whipped its head side to side as if trying to fend off the snapping teeth of the dune runners. It was so distracted by the first two dune runners that it didn't even sense the third one until it had latched its claws into the bull's shoulder muscles. Surprised, the bull bellowed shrilly, stumbling backwards.

The lead dune runner hyper-extended its alligator like jaws and clamped down on the bull's neck. With a quick jerk, it tore a mound of flesh from the bull. A wet, gushing sound was squeezed from the dune runner's teeth. The other pack members rushed in, catching the bull's neck within their jaws and pulling it to the sand. Their claws ripped gouges in the bull's flesh. The sand became red and clumped together.

After eating their fill, the dune runners sprinted away across the desert landscape. It wasn't long before the pack was forced to slow, their bodies suddenly feeling three times heavier than normal. Though the sun had already set, an intense warmth spread through their bodies. The dune runners fell. To any other creature, it might have looked as though the pack had simply dehydrated in the desert and collapsed from exhaustion. Whatever had infected the bull wasted no time in doing the same to the dune runners.

Their skin began to ooze a mucus-like liquid, and their eyes retreated into their skulls. The claws on their front hands grew together. Spasming, the dune runners struggled to breathe. Their skin became loose and saggy, and around the brows of their faces sharp bones erupted. Their shrieks carried far in the thin desert air. No animal approached.

Something twisted inside. Something, many things, awoke and began to move through the bloodstream and attached to the spinal column. The flesh just below their shoulder blades shuddered; bony extentions shot out with the sound of tearing muscle. The shrieks once again filled the desert. At the end of the new appendages were three fingered hands with sharp claws. Pain. Pain. It was like something was eating them from the inside out.

Through the pain, a deep, resonate voice called out to the dune runners. Authoritative, calm, soothing. "Come to me, my children. I will bring an end to your pain. Serve me and take part in the glory of your birthright -- the purity of essence." The dune runners rose from the sand like puppets on strings.

They ran until the sand became a thick and spongy carpet that looked like a strange blend of moss and vomit. In the center of the creep was a huge structure that looked like a volcano with large ridges extending radially. Thick tendrils buried themselves into the bio-toxin layer and absorbed the nutrients to support the steady supply of larvae.

The dune runners stopped at the end of the colony, watching. Drones mined minerals and vespene gas without paying any attention to the three creatures staring about curiously. Beside the hatchery was a large open pool of bubbling green liquid. It resembled maple syrup in its viscosity, churning as though boiling. The voice spoke again.

"Step in."

The dune runners stepped in. Their bodies steamed and melted away into the liquid like they had stepped into a vat of acid. The infected dune runners' genes were broken down and stored within the spawning pool. Through the creep, the genetic information was transferred to the hatchery.

A larvae near the hatchery straightened its body as though listening to a voice calling to it. Suddenly, it began to wrap itself into a cocoon that rapidly hardened as it was exposed to air. The cocoon, although heavily armored, was translucent, and the larva writhed against the light passing through it. As the larva grew it divided into two distinct forms, and more nutrients flooded the cocoon from the creep that fed all the zerg "buildings."

When the forms were almost completely grown, the creep stopped nurturing the cocoon causing it to lose its resilience and hardness. With a shudder, the cocoon split apart to reveal twin juvenile zerglings. Already equipped with two bony sickles a half a meter long on each hand, the zerglings bore only a passing resemblance to the Zz'gashi dune runners they evolved from. Their muscular bodies had decay to resemble reanimated skeletons and the skin, once a sandy color, was now sunset purple. Their gaunt bodies were streamlined and covered with dense scales that formed an armor carapace. They made a strange hissing sound like laughter.

One of them flexed a bony extension just below its shoulder blade where another two clawed hand awaited the feel of blood. More zerglings hatched and waited at the edge of the colony. When they were two dozen strong, the command was sent, and the zerglings dashed east. It was a trial run for the new breed, and when they returned later that night they brought with them a small herd of infected Slothien. Soon after, the first hydralisks would be hatched.

The swarm was well on its way ...


End file.
